Whatever We Lose
by stark-fire
Summary: "I will spend plenty of time with my husband soon," she nodded, "But I am not yet finished with you. We still have much to discuss before I'm ready to let your hand go. You see, there's one thing I have yet to teach you." Katara and Korra say their final goodbyes. One-shot. WARNING: Character Death.


"_For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),__  
__It's always our self we find in the sea."  
_- E.E. Cummings_  
_

It was a message that Korra never thought she'd ever receive. One excruciating trip across the world brought her to this moment, her feet barely touching the ground as she barreled into the Southern Water Tribe. The eyes of her people either set downwards towards her fresh footprints or on the hut in the distance. It hadn't snowed in weeks, and the sky was a darker shade of blue than anything they had seen before. The world was dimmed for a dwindling light, a long fated day. Everything that is, will one day cease to be, and it was her time.

Katara's health had taken a turn for the worst, the message read. She wouldn't be of this world for much longer, and Korra would not let that happen. What good was being the Avatar if she couldn't save the ones who had saved her?

"Katara!" Korra pushed her way through healers who then ran in after her, yelling left and right to calm down and compose herself before seeing Katara—but it was too late. Korra's eyes landed on the old smiling woman, her body tucked under pelts and grey hair pooled over fluffed pillows. The air in the room was warm, much warmer than it should have been considering how late it was into winter.

"It's alright," Katara's voice was soft, "Thank you all so much for your worry but I would like to speak to Korra alone if you don't mind."

The few healers lingered in the doorway before bowing out and closing the door quietly behind them. Korra just stood there, frozen only a few steps into the room, unsure of what to make of Katara's appearance and the sound of her voice. The message had made it sound so urgent. She half expected to walk in on Tenzin's last goodbye to his mother, but here she was smiling, hands folded over her stomach, beckoning Korra closer. She was still very much alive.

"Come here, Korra. Sit by me a moment, would you? These old ears weren't meant for conversations across an entire room."

Korra nodded, taking the small stool next to Katara's bed and scooting closer. Being this close to her felt natural for Korra. She thought of all the times they would sit by the cliffs and bend, back when she was just a beginner and tried Katara's patience more than once with a surprise snowball to the forehead. They had always managed to laugh it off, and Katara had even sent one flying back once but would never admit it. All those days they had trained, the mornings Katara had to pull her feet first from her bed, and even the few times Korra had let her temper get the best of her. Those days were a distant past, although they felt like only yesterday.

"Your forehead will stay wrinkled like that if you don't stop thinking so hard," Katara spoke, snapping Korra out of her trance, "What's wrong, Korra?"

Korra cleared her throat, "Tenzin's message was—"

"They call it a rally day." Katara answered before Korra could even catch her breath, "Although, I'm not sure how much I believe in that sort of thing. You wouldn't have known Aang was sick until he finally passed. I really think it depends on the person."

"So you are…" Korra looked towards her hands, "You know."

"Dying," Katara put her hand on Korra's, "I am dying, yes. It will soon be my time to leave this world. I've been away from my brother and my friends for far too long now."

Korra clenched her jaw, "But what about us? Aren't we your friends?"

Katara's smile faded, her lips pursed for a moment before softening, "No, my dear Korra. You are not just my friend. You are my family."

"Family doesn't leave each other."

"On the contrary, Korra," she smiled, "Family is meant for just that. You could not spend the rest of your life here with your parents, could you? You must leave, or else you'll never experience the joy of finding them once again."

"A-Are you happy?" Korra asked, "Happy to die, I mean."

"I am ready, yes," She looked away, "When my Gran Gran passed on, I spend days crying in the very spot you are sitting in now. My brother and Aang watched over me and promised me that she was ready but I didn't understand at the time—I always believed she had given up on us, but now I know. She had done all she could in this world. She had raised her own children, as well as my brother and I, and took her second chance at finding love. She passed on knowing she had no regrets."

"I called you here for a reason, Korra," She continued, "You were my one loose end."

Korra looked up, "Your loose end?"

"I feel as though I have much to explain to you and to apologize for."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, it was all my fault. I was a terrible student and I shouldn't have tried so hard to break your patience—"

Katara let out an airy laugh, gripping tightly onto Korra's hand, "No, no, nothing like that, Korra. You were a wonderful student. Better than Aang, in fact. No, I fear what I must apologize for is exactly what I just said. There have been many times where I have looked to you Korra and expected to see my husband standing in your very place," she sighed, "However, the truth is you are not Aang. Far from it. I always wondered how Aang was so different from Roku, or any of the other previous Avatars, considering they we reborn into him, and he into you. The truth is, Korra, you are all the best parts of Aang. His playfulness and his humor, his will and drive, his dedication and love for those he held dear. These are all parts of who you are, but you are also the best parts of you. Your stubbornness and bravado, your smile and strength, and your emotional bravery. I look to you now and see you, Korra. Not my husband, not Avatar Roku, but you—Avatar Korra. I am sorry I didn't see it sooner."

"Katara—" Korra choked back, "You don't have to apologize for anything. You loved Aang…"

"And I hold just as much love for you, Korra."

"I wish I knew how to let you see him again, I would bring him here and you could, I don't know, spend some time with him or something."

"I will spend plenty of time with my husband soon," She nodded, "But I am not yet finished with you. We still have much to discuss before I'm ready to let your hand go. You see, there's one thing I have yet to teach you."

"Katara, you're sick. This is no time for you to try and teach me anything."

"These old bones have one last lesson in them," she stretched slowly, "So grant an old woman her dying wish and listen up."

Korra let out a soft laugh, "Okay, Master Katara, what is it you need to teach me?"

"From what my son has told me, you've had experience with blood bending, have you not?" She asked.

"I don't want to learn how to blood bend." Korra said, body rigid.

"Well good, because I don't want to teach it to you," Katara smiled, giving her hand a squeeze, "No, this lesson isn't about how to blood bend, but more so about your water bending training as a whole."

"But you passed me in my water bending test!"

Katara raised an eyebrow and stared at her pupil, "Perhaps I shouldn't have, considering my own student has not retained the ability to listen."

"Sorry, Master Katara."

"Very well then, where was I? Oh yes, your water bending training. Now you know, after having experienced blood bending first hand, that water courses throughout our bodies. It is in the air we breathe, the blood we pump through our bodies, and the trees that create forests. Water is all around us, it flows and it ebbs with the tide, but of course you know all this already."

Korra nodded, biting her tongue.

"I have watched you grow, Korra, from rushing rapids to an ocean of a woman. You are powerful and destined for greatness, and you are made of water. Of course, the same could be said about Amon, could it not?"

Korra nodded again.

"I can see your fear, Korra. It is a fear I am all too familiar with. The kind of fear that stems from anger. You are angry that you allowed yourself to be caught by Amon, that you could not protect everyone. You are angry that Amon could be so much like you, but hurt so many people. You are very much alike, it is true. However, you must understand that it is okay for you to be angry. Do not swallow it; let it flow out of you like water. After all, that's what you are Korra. You are water, and therefore so is your anger. Do not let it cluster within you, pool and brown, because if you do it will slowly eat you from the inside out. Do not let it consume you."

"But what if he comes back, w-what if someone else rises up ten times stronger than he was. I could hardly beat him this time," Korra stammered, "He hurt so many people."

"Korra, you are not Amon, and you will never be. Do you remember the first thing I ever taught you?"

Korra sighed, "Water flows, it does not resist."

"If I were to push a large boulder into the river, what would happen to the water? Would it stop flowing?"

"No, it would find away around."

Katara smiled, "Well, there is your answer. If someone rises up stronger than Amon, and drops a boulder in your path, you go around it. You are water, Korra, born of it and raised by it, and nothing can stand in your way if you do not want it to."

"And," Katara tilted her head slightly, "if you need any help. I'll be sure to send my husband down to give you a hand, alright?"

Korra nodded, wiping the heel of her palm against her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. She owed Katara so much, but most of all she owed Katara this moment. A moment where she wasn't being a pain in the neck and Katara could be free to speak about everything she had never gotten the chance to say.

"Okay," Korra smiled as she pulled her hand from her eyes, "Yeah, definitely."

There was a knock on the door. One of the healers peered their heads in and muttered something about another visitor and Korra knew that her time was up. She went to stand, but Katara's hand held on tightly to hers and pulled her back. "One more thing, Korra."

"What's up?"

Katara opened her eyes as wide as she could, despite the growing exhaustion of the day. She looked Korra in the eyes, "I wanted to say this to you, just in case I don't get the chance tomorrow. Come closer."

Korra sat down on the very edge of her bed, hand still gripped tightly. Katara spoke, "As far as I am concerned, Korra, I have two incredible daughters. I think of all the things I wish my Gran Gran had told me before she passed, and I don't want to leave you with anything less than everything I can give you. So please, do not ever forget that I love you Korra, my daughter, and you have become the woman I always knew you could be. I will always be with you, no matter where my body is, my spirit will always be here."

There was another knock at the door.

"I suppose we should let Bumi in before he knocks down the entire hut," Katara gave Korra's hand a final squeeze before letting her go, "Will you come back tomorrow?"

Korra could hardly speak, her hands shaking at her sides. She nodded quickly before turned on her heel and running from the room just as quickly as she had arrived.

* * *

The air was different today, cold and dry. The kind of wind that could take the skin right off your bones if you stood in one place for too long. The sun was beginning to peer over the horizon by the time Tenzin was in Korra's room, waking her from a shallow sleep. Katara had asked for her again, one last time.

Everyone was still in the hut, huddled around one another awaiting the inevitable when Korra arrived. She was the last one brought in, the final goodbye, the only one in the room left with anything to say. Tenzin opened the door for her and allowed her to walk through the threshold into Katara's room before slowly shutting the door behind her.

Korra tilted her head. This couldn't be the same Katara she had seen only a few hours ago. Her face was sickeningly pale, her eyes set deeply into her skull and her mouth slightly agape, tongue pressing against her bottom teeth every time she exhaled. Her hands were no longer folded across her stomach, but instead they were limp at her sides, fingers slightly more swollen then they had been the night before. Her chest labored a bit with every breath.

She was still alive, somehow.

Korra walked over to her, pushing the stool away from the bed and sitting down on the edge of the mattress instead, taking Katara's chilled hand in both her own. Korra's thumb ran instinctive circles over the wrinkled skin.

"Katara, can you hear me? It's me, Korra."

Katara's head nodded slowly, her eyes remaining shut and breathing labored. Korra let her eyes run over her features again, imagining her as a young girl holding the hand of her Gran Gran, searching for the right thing to say.

"Okay, well good," Korra said, "I let you talk yesterday so now it's my turn. It's not much but you told me yesterday that there were things you wish your Gran Gran had said to you, and I'm sure there were plenty of things she wished you had said to her. So I have to tell you something."

Korra took a deep breath, "I'm not so great with words, but you took care of me when everyone else in that compound wanted nothing more than for me to be the perfect Avatar. You treated me like a person and if you hadn't let me go to Republic City, I wouldn't have ever—well—done any of this. I wouldn't have saved the city or met my friends or be air bending. Aang's story may have ended with you, Katara, but my story began with you. And if I'm water, you're water too, so I guess we'll always have that, right?"

Katara nodded slightly, her fingertips twitching against Korra's touch. Korra squeezed a little tighter and laugh out a soft laugh, "I wish I could give you something more than this, Katara. After everything you've done for me, holding your hand doesn't seem like quite enough. I'm who I am because of you. It's all because of you, Katara. If you hadn't found Aang inside that iceberg and believed in him, fought a war and raised a family. Katara you are the reason for all of this, for all of me, and I don't know how to keep the story going without you. I don't know who I am without you."

The wind blew in the room, though there were no windows, and there was a warmth that traveled up Korra's spine, tickling the base of her neck as she let the tears fall freely from her eyes—too afraid to let go of the hand in her grasp. A hand fell onto her shoulder, gentle and light, and she knew that he was here. She couldn't keep Katara here any longer; it wasn't fair to hold on when she was ready to let go.

"I brought Aang, Katara, can you feel him?" Korra asked, feeling Aang's hand envelop hers and Katara's. Katara nodded, tears in the corners of her closed eyes.

"You told me that we all are water, Katara, and if that's the case you need to keep on flowing. Don't let me keep you here," Korra's voice shook as the tears kept coming, "I love you so much Katara and I don't know what I would do without you, but as long as you're with Aang, you're with me, right? So it's time to let go of me, and hold onto him. He's been waiting forever to see you again."

"And I'll see you again someday, because we're family," Korra sobbed, gripping even tighter onto Katara's hand, "And that's what family does. We find each other."

"Katara."

Katara's eyes shot open at the sound of Aang's voice. Korra watched as Katara's eyes scanned slowly over her face, and then over her shoulder to where Aang stood, before rolling back into her head and her lids closing slowly. Her chest started lobbing up and down in labored breaths, her tongue pushing forward, closing off her throat until the movement of her chest began to slow and her body became still in Korra's hands.

The room was still. Aang was gone. Katara was gone.

And Korra sat, still gripping the same hands that seen nearly a century of conflict and resolution, carried three children, four grandchildren and held the hand of a loving husband, healed thousands and consoled a thousand more. Korra closed her eyes, knowing all too well that the longer she started at the body, the more she would convince herself that Katara was still somewhere in there, but she wasn't. Korra had felt it, holding her hand, the hiccup of a moment when Katara had left this body and taken Aang's hand.

Korra couldn't help but wonder if Katara had made it to her family yet, if she had finally seen her brother and friends. Even though she had only been gone a few seconds, Korra hoped she had.

She heard the door open behind her, muffled sobs under hands, and turned to see Tenzin standing with his siblings. He walked over, his hand on her shoulder as his own lip quivered under the pressure of being steady. Korra finally let go of the body, the hand fall with a soft thump against the mattress, before turning on her heel and walking out of the hut.

As she stepped into the cold of the new Southern morning, the snow had finally begun to fall. Korra dared not look back, knowing all too well that you can mourn an empty riverbed, but the water is always flowing somewhere else, even if you're not sure where.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you guys so much for checking out my story! I know, it's really depressing, but someone sent me a prompt about putting Katara's death into words and this just kind of came out of that. I've been toying around with the idea of making this a series of one-shots where I do Katara's death from the other characters' points of views (because obviously, this was just Korra's). Let me know what you think! As always **reviews** are wonderful and beautiful, and thank you guys for reading!


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